


down for the count

by thelostcolony, TheMysticWolf36



Series: you catch more bees with honey than vinegar [2]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, M/M, also we get a cute drunk ben scene so that's worth it tbh, ben's gay tbh, light angst?, takes place right after 'sky's the limit', this is gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelostcolony/pseuds/thelostcolony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMysticWolf36/pseuds/TheMysticWolf36
Summary: Ben stumbles out into the cold night air, heart beating a staccato rhythm against his ribcage; he’s panting for breath, inhales deeply through his nose and watches as the air mists in front of his face as he exhales and can’t calm the racing of his pulse, the shake to his hands.Alexander just kissed him.





	down for the count

Ben stumbles out into the cold night air, heart beating a staccato rhythm against his ribcage; he’s panting for breath, inhales deeply through his nose and watches as the air mists in front of his face as he exhales and can’t calm the racing of his pulse, the shake to his hands.

He tries his best to school his expression; it won’t do to look like a lovestruck boy who’s just seen a pretty girl for the first time (though it’s not a girl, and it’s not Ben’s first time seeing Hamilton, but it  _ was  _ his first time kissing Hamilton and he’d thought he’d felt some interest and they’d exchanged touches that Ben had thought he’d been imagining and he’d flirted to find out and Hamilton hadn’t responded so Ben had thought it was a fantasy, a wild daydream, but now,  _ now - ) _

Ben takes another deep breath, feels the burn in his lungs, tries to force the burning in his cheeks to go away. He knows he’s blushing (he blushes too much around Alexander, can feel it in his ears and his neck and his face when Alexander compliments him but he can’t stop it, he can’t stop it for some reason, he can’t stop it and he doesn’t know  _ why _ ), but Alexander had known all the right buttons to push and all the right places to pull. It had left Ben intoxicated, high off the fumes of Alexander’s attention, so spoken of throughout camp; it’s no secret that he’s promiscuous, but the rumor that he enjoys carnal pleasures just as thoroughly with men as he does with women has been shrouded in more speculation than regular gossip (but now Ben knows, he knows, he  _ knows - ) _

His legs wobble beneath him and betray him, and his heel slips across a patch of ice that he hadn’t seen; he’s been walking without realizing it this whole time, lost in thought, feet habitually taking him back to his tent. He keeps his legs under him despite the ice; takes another shuddering breath that he hopes no one is around to hear. He knows, logically, that no one can possibly know what occurred between him and Hamilton tonight; knows that no one had been in the room with them, knows no one had been watching from the windows as if waiting to catch the two of them in the act. But the very fact that it happened, that it’s been done, that he and Hamilton had kissed was - was  _ overwhelming _ , exhilarating and nerve-wracking and new and wild and absolutely, positively  _ insane _ , and Ben is, Ben is - 

Ben is at his tent.

He ducks in and can’t help the shiver of relief that runs down his spine; eyes are off him here, no one can see in, no one can look at his wobbly legs and his flushed face and the dumb expression he’s wearing and deduce what happened; they can’t look at him and see all the evidence of what he and Alexander did, can’t measure him up and accuse him of anything, not in the safety of his tent - 

He loosens his cravat with shaking fingers and tosses it to the ground; he can pick it up later, when he’s steadier and he’s not so - so  _ overwhelmed _ . That’s what this is; this is just, he’s just a little - he’s not shaken, his body is just being foolish; he enjoyed it, really, but there are scenarios running through his head now that the giddiness has worn off, a million whispers of  _ “but what if - ”  _ that he can’t get under control, just like he can’t get his shaking hands or his still racing heartbeat under control no matter how hard he tries. He struggles with his waistcoat buttons until he realizes he’s still wearing his overcoat, but even after he shucks that he can’t get his fingers to work around them. Wetting his lips, he sucks in another breath and sits down on his cot, hands on his knees as he tries to at least get himself to stop shaking like a damn leaf.

He waits until he’s collected himself a bit before he tries again, and this time his fingers remember what they’re supposed to be doing and unbutton the waistcoat, and he shrugs it off and leaves himself in only his shirt and trousers. He swallows down whatever paranoia that’s left, takes yet another deep breath. Calm. He’s calm.

He’s calm and he’s back in his tent and Alexander  _ kissed him. _

Ben reaches up, touches his lips to make sure they’re not as swollen as they feel. They’re throbbing lightly, like he’s been kissing passionately or something, but really it was very - it was short, he thinks, especially for Alexander, and gentle, and it was...actually, it was perhaps one of the best kisses Ben has ever received.

He’s been kissed before, of course. Caleb has dared him plenty of times over the years, and though Ben has turned down some, there’d been a niggling curiosity as to what it was like, and he’d accepted some of those dares (usually while drunk, but they still counted). And it isn’t as if he’s never met a girl he’s liked. He’s just never lain with any of them before.

But of course, Hamilton knows that. Knew that. Had said it himself, right before he’d kissed Ben.

Ben rubs at his face and feels, quite abruptly, just how exhausted he is. All his limbs ache from days of too little sleep and too much work, and his hands are cramping even now from holding his quill for so long. His eyes burn for how long they’ve been open, even in the darkness of his tent. And Ben would light a candle, but he can’t quite bring himself to get up now that he’s sitting on something that’s not utterly wooden and hasn’t begun instantly turning his butt numb. 

And still, for all the weariness he can feel in his body, he can’t stop his mind from hyperfocusing on that kiss, on the way Alexander’s eyes had sparkled when he’d looked at Ben; he can’t stop replaying it in his head, how Alexander had leaned forward and whispered his name so softly, so reverentially that Ben hadn’t been able to resist, had been too helpless to react as Alexander leaned in and pressed his lips to Ben’s and it had felt so good and so  _ right  _ and - 

Something in his chest seizes and Ben huffs out a breath. Lying down is a good idea. Alexander had been right, earlier; he needs to rest. He’s been working on the same thing for too long, been staring at the same letters and documents trying to put together a puzzle that’s missing several integral pieces. It’s been...a trying few days. 

(Weeks, months, years. The war has been trying. He’s so tired.)

Still, still - his mind isn’t quiet. There’s nothing he can do to stop the thoughts buzzing around in his head, and it’s with a resigned grunt that Ben stands and lights a candle to allow some light. Instantly, his eyes flare a little in pain, but it’s gone just as fast as it had come. He sits back down, body sore, but something inside him begin to ease as he looks around. Even in the light of the candle, the tent is still safe. No one can see him here; no one can see his face and tell what he’s - what  _ they’ve -  _ done.  _ Everything looks better in the morning, _ Ben’s mother used to tell him.  _ When you wake up after a good night’s rest, everything looks better in the morning, dear. Trust me.   _

The anxiety he’s carried around for days begins to slowly inch off his shoulders, and Ben sighs and closes his eyes and tries his best to calm the thoughts about Alexander’s eyes and lips and the way his dimples had appeared when he’d laughed and pressed his knuckles to Ben’s hot cheek when he’d told Ben he knew that Ben had never done this before, had whispered his name and - 

“Ey, Tallboy!” 

Ben is on his feet before he even registers moving, flying up and immediately tripping over his own feet; he loses his balance and hits the ground and does his best to roll with the impact but his knees slam down, and as he gasps for air Caleb mutters, “oi, Christ,” as he takes in Ben’s disheveled, floor-bound state. “If I knew yew were retirin’ so early, I wouldn’t’ve scared yew like that, ey?”

“Caleb,” Ben groans, still trying to get his wits about him as he straightens himself out and gets to his feet, brushing himself off and scowling as Caleb’s words finally process. “Why in the world did you come in like that anyway, especially because you knew I was in here?! I could have shot you!”

Caleb raises an eyebrow and stares at him. “Ah, yeah, yew could’a shot me alright,” he says. “Oh yeah. Shot me dead from down there, Tallboy. Yew, my friend, are quite the marksman. ‘M quiverin’ in my boots at the thought.”

“Shut up,” Ben grumbles, and Caleb grins and claps him on the shoulder.

“All in good fun, Benny-boy. So ah, tell me - yew wouldn’t happen t’be back early because yew finally caught a break from bein’ Washington’s personal secretary, would yew?”

The thing inside him seizes up again ( _ he knows he knows he knows but there’s no way there’s no way Caleb could know he wasn’t watching and Alexander doesn’t wear lipstick so there’s no way that’s on me and the blush could be from anything from being startled  _ **_why is he asking me - )_ ** **,** and it takes all of Ben’s restraint to get it under control again. “Ah, yeah,” he says, and hates how choked he sounds. “Hamilton told me to go get some rest.”

Caleb snorts, thankfully unaware of Ben’s struggle. “ _ Hamilton _ told yew to get some rest? Oi, yew must have looked dead on yer feet for  _ him  _ to tell yew to take the night off.” Ben hides his smile at the floor, and Caleb takes it as a cue to continue, grinning wider. “An’ since it’s before yer bedtime, whaddaya say we go an’ have a few drinks with the boys, eh? They haven’t seen yew for ages; m’sure they’ve forgotten what yew look like by now.”

Ben’s exhausted. His heart still feels like it’s beating a thousand times harder than it should be, and he still thinks he can feel the heat in his cheeks where they’re still flushed. He’s tired, and drawn, and Alexander had kissed him and sent him to go rest. Ben is...fairly sure that going out with Caleb and drinking with the boys isn’t the most brilliant of ideas.

But for the first time in a long time, the anxiety on his shoulders isn’t about the Culper Ring, isn’t about his friends or his family in danger. It isn’t about keeping his position, or besting John André, or even Washington’s approval. Right now, all Ben’s worried about is whether or not people saw a kiss that they most definitely didn’t, and his best friend is standing in front of him with a smile on his face like he’s always had, and he’s asking Ben to unwind like he always does and always has done, and Ben has never thought about how much his dragoons might miss him. How much Caleb might miss him.

And truthfully, he’s never thought about how much he’s missed Caleb, but it hits him now like it never has before just how much he really does. Things between the two of them have always been uncomplicated - Caleb has always been the reckless one, Ben always the more thoughtful counterpart. Caleb has always dragged him off on harebrained adventures, and Ben has always let him.

Always.

Ben takes yet another deep breath. It doesn’t burn - not really - but still, he thinks he can feel his pulse calm down a little bit, thinks he can feel his heart steady out a little. It’s no longer pounding against his ribcage, at least, and the thoughts of Alexander are...quelled, for now.

(The war has been so trying. He’s so tired. But he’s tired of being tired, and his mind won’t rest, and Caleb is here just like he’s always been, here to drag him off to another adventure to make him forget his worries.

And for once, Ben thinks he just might be able to.)

So Ben smiles.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and watches Caleb’s grin fall into something more genuine, something more brilliant.  _ Just like old times.  _ It’s always been him and Caleb against the world. So Ben smiles wider and says again, “yeah. Let’s go.”

And as they leave, he tries to school his expression, because it won’t do to be caught thinking of the drinks he and Alexander had exchanged instead of the drinks he and Caleb are about to, or caught thinking of Alexander’s smile instead of Caleb’s. Because it’s always been him and Caleb, and Caleb has always been able to read Ben as easily as he’s been able to read an open book.

And as he stumbles out of his tent, the night air burns cold against his cheeks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> did i not say that more gay stuff was coming?
> 
> it has arrived
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment or a kudos to let me know what you think !! Hopefully the second chapter will be up soon !!  
> P.S. Hit us up on tumblr at thcgardcn.tumblr.com to see updates, new fics, and meta !! thank's ny'all
> 
> -Ro


End file.
